


Hakuouki Vignettes

by Impracticaldemon



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impracticaldemon/pseuds/Impracticaldemon
Summary: Most stories are T, but overall rating a mild M for the OkiChi chapter.Short stories and drabbles gathered from various prompts and requests involving Hakuouki characters (general, romance, friendship, whatever).  Will be canon unless specified, where canon is taken primarily from Hakuouki: Stories of the Shinsengumi (i.e., PS3 version of the game) together with the anime (3 seasons plus OVA--that means that Reimeiroku may be included) and the two movies.  I am also currently taking requests for letters between Hakuouki characters; the longer and more interesting of these may be included here.NOTE: Requests for drabbles and ficlets (or letters) are currently closed (for now).,[My first priority is updating my main Hakuouki story The Teachings of Demons; I also have exchange fics to do for October-December plus ship weeks.  Requests should specify the character(s), the relationship(s) if any, and at least a general topic such as "Relationship Firsts" or "On the Job" or "In the Kitchen".  I will publish a suggested list here if there is interest.]





	1. Heisuke & The Spirit of the Shinsengumi

**Author's Note:** I wanted to write a short story / ficlet about Heisuke in response to a request on tumblr, but I also wanted to write something for the March 2017 Challenge Word "Spirit" ( **tumblr** , fic-writer-appreciation). Due to lack of time, I decided to do both at once. (I don't usually combine things, _sumimasen_!)

 

* * *

**Heisuke & The Spirit of the Shinsengumi**

* * *

Heisuke brightened noticeably when he saw the one and only girl in the Shinsengumi compound standing at the entrance to the kitchen area. He'd been wondering who would be helping him get everything together, since Hijikata-san had sent Sano-san on an errand and Shinpachi-san hadn't been inclined to substitute.

"Hey Chizuru! Are you making dinner with me today? That's great!"

Chizuru straightened visibly at Heisuke's warm welcome. She'd been living with the Shinsengumi for several months now, but there were still a few among the commanders and captains who frowned when they saw her out of her room without an escort. Heisuke definitely wasn't one of them—he thought Chizuru made a terrific addition to the Shinsengumi for many reasons, including her cooking. Hajime-kun had already spoken to Heisuke once about not asking Chizuru to help with so many meals, but Heisuke didn't really understand why; Chizuru truly seemed to enjoy making their food taste better.

"Yes, Heisuke-kun. Inoue-san told me that you would probably be on your own today—for cooking dinner, I mean."

The brown-eyed girl slipped into the kitchen rather shyly, and then seemed to catch Heisuke's enthusiasm and smiled in response to his broad grin. Her eyes twinkled slightly when she eyed the large pot of water that Heisuke had set to boil. Heisuke regarded her warily for a moment. He had a feeling that she was remembering a recent cooking… difficulty… he'd had recently.

"Um, I thought I'd better get the rice started," he said tentatively.

"Perhaps we should make slightly _smaller_ rice balls than you did two days ago," Chizuru told him, confirming his suspicions.

Heisuke sighed. It would be a while before he lived that one down.

"I know. But it seemed like such a great idea at the time. I still don't really know where it went wrong! I mean, why bother making three little bitty things when you can go so much faster if you just make one big one?" Heisuke crossed his arms defensively. "Besides," he added, when Chizuru opened her mouth to reply, "Shinpat-san appreciated it! He said that it was more in keeping with the spirit of the Shinsengumi to have big balls!"

Chizuru made a small choking sound and blushed. Heisuke turned bright red and smacked his forehead.

"Augh! I can't believe I said that! Just… just ignore that, okay Chizuru-chan? I mean, you were there—you know what Shinpachi-san said, right? About how the Shinsengumi had to be larger-than-life and so much better than everyone else in order to keep things under control in Kyoto, and so we ought to have food that was, you know, _appropriate_ to our duties?"

The girl nodded and managed not to laugh out loud, which Heisuke appreciated. Chizuru was good about things like that. She seemed to take him seriously, most of the time, which was very soothing after all the teasing that he took from the others—not to mention Hijikata-san's regular reprimands.

"I remember, Heisuke-kun," Chizuru assured him. Only the tiniest tremor in her voice betrayed her amusement at Heisuke's rendition of Nagakura's deliberately exaggerated comments. "Perhaps we can come up with a way to make a meal that represents the spirit of the Shinsengumi without the, ah, _objects_ crumbling into bits."

Heisuke's lips twitched. He rarely stayed upset for long and it _had_ been funny: Shinpat-san making his speech about how large food was only appropriate to the large fighting spirits of the Shinsengumi captains, only to have the giant rice ball in his hand dissolve into sticky grains around his fingers. Mind you, looked at from a certain point of view, it wasn't exactly a great omen. Still… Heisuke finally laughed out loud, and Chizuru smiled back at him, relieved that he seemed less annoyed about the incident now.

"Okay, Chizuru, what do you suggest? I am at your command!"

Chizuru considered.

"Well, perhaps if we made _two_ onigiri instead of three or one? That way they would still be _bigger_ than usual but less, um, fragile."

Heisuke stared at her and then turned away, embarrassed but snickering uncontrollably. The image of presenting Shinpat-san and Sano-san with _two_ large rice balls, along with a strategically-placed ornamental vegetable, appealed to him and horrified him at the same time. Then he thought of Hijikata-san's inevitable reaction to the same presentation and immediately stopped laughing.

"I think we'll just make dinner as usual, Chizuru-chan," he said carefully. "Besides, who says that bigger is always better, right?"

"Right!"

Heisuke couldn't help but smile at Chizuru's firm response. After all, both he and Chizuru were on the smaller side, and he figured that they had plenty of Shinsengumi spirit.

**[END]**


	2. The Importance of a Meal

**Author's Note**

**This story** was written as a response to a request by **thesweateristoobig** of **tumblr** :

"Ok so you knew this was coming but either heisuke/chizuru or sannan/chizuru because both bae's need love of some sort and chizuru too ;-;"

Since I was already writing a Heisuke story (see chapter 1) and I have never attempted Sannan x Chizuru, I thought I'd take the more challenging option. Like Sannan-san himself, this story is definitely bittersweet, although not without hope.

~ Imp

* * *

**The Importance of a Meal ~ Sannan**

* * *

After the injury to his arm, it was only due to Chizuru's patience and persistence that Sannan had begun to eat his meals with the others again. The situation had changed again after he had taken the _ochimizu_ and become a _rasetsu_.

For a while, Okita-kun had insisted on being present when he woke up, which had been frustrating but understandable. What had really surprised the Shinsengumi Deputy Commander, however, was that eventually–once he had started waking in the evening and sleeping during the day– Chizuru had begun to arrive with his breakfast.

"You do not need to do this," he had told her the first time she had arrived at his quarters not long after the sun had set.

"I understand, Sannan-san," she had replied, in the quiet but slightly… determined… tone that he had heard before. "However, you no longer eat your meals with the others and they are all concerned about you. Again." There had been the mildest emphasis on the last word.

"They know why I am not there, Yukimura-kun," Sannan had retorted, trying to sharpen his tone in an effort to rebuff the girl's effort to make her actions seem connected to the well-being of the Shinsengumi.

"If you were to arrive in the common room when you rose, Sannan-san, I would be happy to bring you your breakfast there."

It had been a baffling answer. Not in the immediate sense–Sannan was a veteran of verbal gamesmanship and had understood why she had simply refused to deal with his statement, since in itself it was irrefutable. What had puzzled him had been why she had persisted. Her place with the Shinsengumi wasn't precisely secure, but by that point it was certainly well-established. She didn't need to bring him food in order to gain enough sympathy to protect her life.

"Yukimura-kun, I do not wish to stumble over you every day–or evening!–when I wake up. Do I make myself clear?"

Those had been his words, and he had thought that he'd made his sentiments quite plain. Two days later, however, she had brought him his breakfast at ten in the evening. In his rooms. He had expostulated, and she had bowed politely and gone away–leaving the food with him, just as she had done when he had injured his arm. He hadn't bothered to ask for her reasons. He had known that she would insist that by waiting until he had been up for some time, she was obeying his wish not to be bothered when he had just woken up.

Somehow, he hadn't been surprised when she had turned up the next evening as well. The only thing that had surprised him–and bothered him–was that for some reason he had hoped that she _would_ show up despite his grumblings. That evening he had tried a different tactic, and had ignored her entirely. She had ignored him ignoring her, although it had meant that she had waited some time before leaving his room. It wasn't until much later, in the middle of a delicate experiment, that it occurred to him that he had allowed her to come in to begin with. His feelings of unease had grown–she always asked politely before entering, so why had he told her to come in only to ignore her once she was there?

Tonight, he found himself on edge, his eyes straying to the window to judge the time by the sliver of moon that had risen. It was better than turning to look at his clock (an expensive and treasured belonging), which would force him to recognize his anxiety–or whatever it was–as something other than anticipated irritation. Was he going to deny her entrance?

"Sannan-san? It's Chizuru with your meal." There was a pause and Sannan found himself clenching his teeth so as not to tell her to enter.

She defeated him despite his care, however. After a suitable pause, Sannan heard a murmured: " _Shitsurei shimasu."_ Then Chizuru entered, bowed, and deposited the tray with his breakfast. Almost against his will, Sannan turned to watch her. He could see that she was slightly frightened; she knew–or thought she knew–that he would be angry with her. Which he should be. He shouldn't have to give her a direct order to prevent her from disturbing him. She was not unintelligent.

" _Arigatou gozaimasu,_ Yukimura-kun," he said, instead of delivering the short but blistering reprimand that he had intended.

Chizuru looked up into his face, obviously startled. Then she managed a small smile of relief, which brightened her soft brown eyes and made her look quite pretty, even in her boys' clothing.

"You are very welcome, Sannan-san. I hope you will enjoy the food."

Sannan nodded and gently touched her shoulder before she could bow again and take her leave.

"I will consider eating–or at least having tea–with the others whenever it is dark enough during the evening meal time. Will that relieve their anxiety?" He couldn't help a slight, dubious stress on the word "their", which Chizuru naturally ignored.

"Yes, thank you Sannan-san. If I do not see you at dinner, I will bring your food here. I promise to be very quiet–in case you are working."

He noticed that she refrained from asking his permission. For some reason this didn't bother him the way that it should have, though. He also noticed that he was still touching her and quickly dropped his hand back to his knee.

"Very well, Yukimura-kun, since you seem so determined on the matter. Good night."

 _Oyasumi_ , Sannan-san," replied Chizuru. He thought he detected a hint of something like fondness in her tone and cursed himself for a fool. Fortunately, she bowed and left before he could do anything truly foolish.

Sannan stared at the closed door for a few minutes after Chizuru left, even though his food was cooling beside him. He reminded himself again that his life, such as it was, was wholly dedicated to the Shinsengumi. There was no room for personal attachments. Besides, if– _if_ –he cared about the girl at all, he would make sure to keep her as far away as possible. He had made his choice and was no longer a creature who walked in the light as she did.

* * *

**[END]**


	3. For the Love of Tofu

**Author's Note:**

**DancesWithSeatbelts** (aka **Nalufever** on tumblr) requested a drabble or ficlet for **Saito and "relationship firsts"**... for **Saito x tofu**. I wonder if she knew that I'd actually write it? Probably. \\(^u^)/

I hope you enjoy this!

~ImpracticalOni

* * *

**For the Love of Tofu**

* * *

Naturally, it was Heisuke who asked the question:

"Hajime-kun, when did you first decide that you loved tofu?"

Saitō frowned. He couldn't understand the relevance to the far more interesting discussion that they'd been having about swords. Not that Heisuke had contributed much—he was not really a sword enthusiast—but Shinpachi-san and Sōji had raised some valid points about the origins of the sword that Saitō was contemplating buying.

Shinpachi smacked Heisuke on the shoulder, although mostly because Heisuke got his head out of the way in time.

"What does tofu have to do with swords?" he demanded, echoing Saitō's thought.

Sōji snickered, his green eyes gleaming. "Nothing," he answered, while Heisuke righted himself and glared at Shinpachi. "Heisuke's just fed up with swords."

Saitō looked reproachfully at Heisuke, who scowled and leaned back on his hands in order to stare up at the ceiling.

"Well _I_ think it's a reasonable question," the younger captain muttered, carefully studying the wooden beams and coincidentally avoiding Saitō's eyes.

"It's a weird question and a weirder time to ask it," Shinpachi said firmly, rolling his eyes.

"No, no, I think I see a connection now," Sōji put in, apparently changing his mind. Heisuke looked at him hopefully. "After all," Sōji continued, "tofu and swords are both things that fascinate Haime-kun, who rarely seems interested in anything other than his current duty."

"Right! Exactly!" Heisuke agreed, nodding vigorously. "In fact, maybe I should go see what's for lunch!" Unfortunately, Shinpachi yanked him back by his pony-tail and he was unable to make his escape.

"I take it that Chizuru-chan's helping out in the kitchen?" drawled Sōji. He smirked when Heisuke reddened. "Not that I needed to ask. Besides, you asked Hajime-kun a question—you should at least be polite enough to stick around for the answer."

"Oh yeah, right, I-I forgot." Heisuke glowered at Sōji, who just shrugged and looked pointedly at Saitō.

Saitō looked taken aback.

"You… really want to know when I first discovered that I preferred tofu to other foods?" he asked uncertainly. Sōji grinned and nodded and Heisuke followed suit, although with noticeably less enthusiasm. Shinpachi rolled his eyes again.

Saitō considered for a moment. "It was about four years ago," he said at last. "I was travelling at the time and came across a sword that I thought might be the later work of"—he broke off, correctly interpreting Heisuke's expression—"ah, a sword that I thought I would like."

"So the tofu was relevant after all!" commented Sōji to Shinpachi. "It proves my point that with Hajime-kun all things are connected to swords and tofu."

Saitō cleared his throat. "I decided to purchase the sword. The vendor saw that the purchase would leave me with very little money, so he kindly invited me to have dinner with him. His wife, he assured me, would not mind. Naturally, I declined."

"What? Why?" demanded Heisuke, who was curious despite his elders' amusement.

"By giving me a meal, the vendor was essentially reducing the price of the sword below what I had agreed to pay," Saitō responded flatly, as though that ended the matter.

"Yeah, Heisuke, honestly! I thought Sano and I had raised you right!"

Heisuke still looked confused and Shinpachi was laughing, but Sōji just nodded at Saitō. Relieved that he didn't have to explain further, Saitō continued.

"The vendor was a kind and honourable man and saw that I would not take their food without offering something in return. Therefore, he proposed that I accompany him in three days' time to Osaka, where he had business. Also, I could stay with them if I assisted with their chores. As I had little money—"

"—having spent it all on a sword—" murmured Sōji, smiling faintly—

"—I agreed," Saitō concluded.

"And the tofu?" asked Heisuke, who was beginning to feel hungry, although not for tofu.

"The man's wife had recently purchased a quantity of tofu. I helped her prepare the meals and saw how many different ways the same, healthful food could be prepared. I have liked tofu ever since."

There was an extended silence. It was Shinpachi who finally voiced what they were all thinking:

"Uh, Saitō? That was a, a _nice_ story and all… but only you would drag the bit about buying a sword into it, you know?"

Saitō shook his head. "If I had not bought the sword, I would not have learned to appreciate tofu. Moreover, they are both pleasing in similar ways: even in the hands of a novice, each can fulfill its basic purpose. However, in the hands of a master, they are incomparable."

* * *

**[END]**

* * *

A/Note: Well, I _did_ want to practice my creative writing... I hope this counts!


	4. Laughing at the Rain

**Author's Note:**

**For _thesweateristoobig (tumblr) | @sonomichii (AO3)_  ~ Happy Birthday! ~ I hope you enjoy this \\(*^u^*)/**

**Prompt:** "can you give me a little Heichi fluff... based around this song: [ _Fireflies_  by Ron Pope]"

**Quote (verse 1 & chorus):**

**"Fireflies"**

When the street lights come on and the fireflies flicker  
I am walking her home  
Making plans

With her shoes in her hands I am watching her dance  
As the hem of her dress gently kisses the grass

It suddenly rains on us  
She is laughing and turns up her hands

Like autumn turns leaves  
Winter will breathe cold on our necks  
Snow in our paths  
Wherever she goes  
All that I know about us is that beautiful things never last  
That's why fireflies flash

* * *

**Laughing at the Rain**

* * *

It had been a strange afternoon. Shinpachi had come to see them, and at first Heisuke hadn't been sure quite how to behave or what to say. After all, he was still a fury—more or less, although it seemed to be rather less than more these days—and Shinpat had been against the furies, even against Heisuke's taking the  _ochimizu_  to save his life. But without the  _ochimizu_ , Heisuke could not have defeated Sannan-san. He couldn't have sat in a sun-dappled garden with his friend drinking  _sake_  almost a year after the war had ended. He wouldn't have Chizuru.

Chizuru had put things right, as she so often did. She had cried when Shinpachi had arrived, looking curiously about him as though unsure that he had arrived in the right place. When the two men had greeted each other awkwardly and traded cautious smiles she had laughed at them and scolded them and dropped everything to make Nagakura-san ("please, just Shinpachi is fine!") comfortable so that he could talk with Heisuke. She had cried again, of course, when Shinpachi had told them that Saitō was alive. They had heard the news of Hijikata-san's death, but not the news that Hajime-kun had somehow, miraculously, survived the slaughterhouse of Aizu. Heisuke had wanted to cry as well—it was such an indescribable relief to know that they weren't  _all_  dead.

They had invited Shinpachi to stay the night, but he had declined.

"I have other business in the area," he'd told them, although it was unlikely to be true. "I'll come back another time, though."

Chizuru had believed the last part; Heisuke wasn't so sure. He'd walked quite a ways down the path toward the road with Shinpachi when he'd left. Away from Chizuru, they were less at ease, but they could drop the pretence. They could discuss the fact that Shinpachi had been a fugitive for over a year, although he was likely to be pardoned shortly, along with Hajime-kun. And Shinpachi could ask him directly how he was finding life as a fury. The question had been hovering between them all afternoon, really.

"Not so bad, I guess," Heisuke had told him, shrugging. "I don't mind the sun now, which is great, but I get tired pretty easily during the day still, which kind of sucks. Also… I'm not sure how long I'll be around, you know? So I worry about Chizuru."

"Do you want me to keep an eye on her?" Shinpachi had asked, accepting the truth of Heisuke's situation without wasting time on exclamations. His tone had been sympathetic, and as genuine as Heisuke had ever heard it.

For a moment, Heisuke had wrestled with unexpected jealousy—he didn't want anyone to look after Chizuru but him. But he'd overcome it quickly.

"Yeah… I'd appreciate that. She'll probably be okay though. And who knows? We may still have a lot of years ahead of us. You know me—I like to venture into the unknown kind of thing."

"Still Master Forerunner?"

"Yeah, kind of. We have a good life, though. Don't really need to chase stuff much these days."

"Yeah, I don't know how you've stayed so scrawny, really, with Chizuru-chan feeding you up like that and nothing to do but loaf around!"

The rest of the conversation had deteriorated into inconsequentialities. Important inconsequentialities though, if there were such a thing. It was still a little weird. Those last two years had changed everything—their lives, their livelihoods, their goals… Japan itself. Only after Heisuke had said his final goodbyes and turned to go back to Chizuru had Shinpachi stopped him and told him, haltingly, that at some point in the future he thought he'd like to at least dedicate proper monuments to Kondō-san and Hijikata-san.

"We didn't always agree," Shinpachi had muttered, as though dedicating monuments was somehow shameful, "but they were damn good warriors. They… they deserve to be honored like the samurai they  _wanted_  to be, you know? It's too bad that they—Kondō-san mostly, I guess, but Hijikata-san was his man through and through—well, it's too bad that they kind of got to be a little bit  _too_  much like the old samurai if you know what I mean."

Heisuke had just nodded. His own time with the Shinsengumi hadn't exactly been without its difficulties and differences of opinion. But he had grieved over Kondō-san's merciless beheading and Hijikata-san's death in the far north on the isle of Ezo. They had been titans, and they had also been men that Heisuke had known personally, had obeyed loyally and had admired deeply.

He returned to find Chizuru waiting for him, her face calm, but her eyes a little worried. He'd wound his arms around her and they'd stood like that for several minutes, enjoying the very last rays of sunlight and the touch of a cool evening breeze.

"Let's walk, Heisuke."

"Yes." He leaned his forehead against hers. "How do you feel?"

Chizuru smiled at him and pushed a stray piece of hair behind on ear, a futile gesture, as she well knew. He was happy that she cared; so very happy that she wanted to be with him. He straightened and pretended to frown, which only made her laugh.

"I'm fine, just fine. I even managed a short rest once you and Nagakura—I mean Shinpachi-san—got to talking in earnest."

"I'm glad," Heisuke murmured, trying not to feel guilty that they'd ignored Chizuru for long stretches of time over the afternoon. Not that she would have minded; if anything, she was probably pleased that they'd managed to relax together for a while—he and Shinpat-san, that is. However… "I can't help but worry."

"I know. But I feel perfectly well, and quite rested, and I want to see the fireflies down by the river." Seeing that he still looked a little uncertain, she tucked her hand into his. "I expect the baby would like to see the fireflies too…"

That made him laugh, even though the idea of Chizuru being pregnant still scared him whenever he thought about it too closely. Especially since if anything went wrong—and things did go wrong, sometimes—it would be his fault. Well, his fault that she was pregnant in the first place. Involuntarily, he glanced sideways at the girl beside him. Even now, she looked too young and too innocent to be living with him like this and especially too young to be a mother.

Chizuru tugged at his hand. "I know what you're thinking. But you know, Shinpachi-san didn't call you a 'kid' once this afternoon. That's pretty amazing, really."

"Well I'm  _not_  a kid!" Heisuke replied reflexively. He grinned ruefully. "Yeah, I get it. Even old Shinpachi-san could tell that we've grown up a bit. Alright, let's walk. But it's not a river. A creek at most!"

It was a long-standing and entirely amiable argument. They held hands the whole time, picking their way along the now-familiar path to the river-creek that provided Heisuke with the water that seemed to have partially reversed at least some of the effects of the  _ochimizu_. When they got to the water, they walked along the bank, greeting their favourite trees, admiring the way that the flowers grew especially well in one particular place, pointing out the birds heading home to their nests for the night. Fish leapt into the air from time to time, feeding on softly buzzing clouds of insects.

Eventually, they saw the fireflies, dancing around one particularly gnarled white willow. With a quiet hum of delight—as though she hadn't seen them many times before!—Chizuru started to hurry forward. Heisuke caught her up short and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"A kiss for good luck first." He'd gotten better at telling her what he wanted, and it had worked out well for them. An unexpected flicker of desire made him blush when she tilted her face up towards him without hesitation.

Soft lips, soft skin… the scent of the day's warmth in silky dark hair. The mood shifted as his kiss became more passionate and less playful. They'd learned each other's needs and wants over the past two years, and Chizuru obviously sensed his unsettled state. Her fingers stroked his neck and wound themselves in his brown hair. After several minutes, they broke apart slightly.

"Ah… the fireflies will be here another night," Heisuke suggested tentatively.

"Impatient?" Her teasing was always very gentle, and he loved the fact that he was the only person that she teased.

"A little." He was about to say more, when the breeze suddenly carried the scent of rain to him and he noticed that the fireflies had disappeared. "I think we'd better hurry—because of the rain, of course."

Chizuru looked puzzled for a moment and then she blinked as a drop hit her cheek. "Oh!" With a laughing glance back at her lover she darted away toward the house. He caught up to her with ease, thanks to her rather confining kimono, and swung her up into his arms.

"Now then. Home!"

Chizuru laughed up at him. She was so much more  _open_  with her smiles now that it was just the two of them. He loved it. He loved her. He wished that they could be together forever and then set that thought ruthlessly aside. Right now he had everything he wanted. Why waste time demanding more?

* * *

**[END]**

* * *

**A/Note:**  Please read and review or leave a comment if you enjoy the story! Many thanks ~ ImpracticalOni


	5. The Shinsengumi in the Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble.
> 
> Modern AU ~ The guys and Chizuru go to the beach

**Author's Note:**

A drabble which turned into a short story (or maybe half of a long story), in response to this prompt:

**[I have a request: Can you write a short scene with the Hakouki characters (in a modern AU) ~ A summer day at the beach? Extra points for Saito in a speedo.]**

May the celestial spirits help us all.

Since  **DWS**  aka  **Nalufever**  (tumblr) has been a faithful reader and reviewer for a long time now, and has an even stranger imagination than mine at times, I hope she will enjoy this offering!

~ImpracticalOni

* * *

 

**The Shinsengumi in the Sunshine**

* * *

The sun blazed in a blue sky, through which a few white clouds drifted like wispy cotton balls. It t looked like a painted background instead of a real sky. It was only just starting to get really hot when a silver minivan and a slick dark convertible pulled into the small parking lot overlooking the pristine beach area.

"Oh man this is perfect!" shouted a smallish teenage boy, flinging back a sliding door and racing down across the sand toward the water's edge. "Look! The tide is just starting to come in now–awesome!"

The back hatch of the minivan began to rise automatically while three more passengers disembarked: a tall red-head in his mid-twenties, a muscular guy in a green bandanna and matching trunks of about the same age, and a third man who looked young until you noticed that the unusual green eyes had fine lines around them that suggested some kind of pain or trouble in the recent past. To call the middle of the three muscular was saying something, because all three men had sinewy, corded arms and walked with the light, springy steps of natural athletes. A casual observer might leave it at that. A more observant sort would take a second look (for more than just aesthetic reasons!) and more-or-less correctly conclude that the visitors were officers on leave from a nearby military base or maybe a larger city police force.

"Yo, Heisuke! Get your ass back here and help unload or you can forget about your share of the beer!"

The teenager—who was presumably older than he looked—waved a middle finger back at the man with the green bandanna, but ran back across the sand to do as he was told. The gesture earned him a "friendly" tap on the head when he arrived, which he shrugged off with almost startling indifference.

In the meantime, a lean, compact man with dark hair had gotten out of the driver's seat, his movements almost unnoticeable against the backdrop of his louder and more colourful colleagues. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt over plain black trunks with some kind of white logo at the hem. He briefly surveyed his passengers, giving a slightly longer scrutiny to the green-eyed man, and then walked over to the convertible.

A slightly older man with black hair and movie-star good looks had already gotten out from behind the wheel of the other car and was unpacking the small storage space in the back that passed for a trunk. The young—and indeed only—woman with the group was just getting out of the passenger seat, her warm brown eyes bright with excitement. Like the youngest of the men, she appeared to be in her late teens.

"Hello, Saitō-san," she said cheerfully to the quiet, dark-haired man. She showed no surprise at his rather sudden—and silent—presence. "The wind made a mess of my hair, but Hijikata-san said there was no point in having a convertible if you didn't have the top down in nice weather. Oh well, I think I've finally gotten it all straight again."

Saitō nodded, since the young woman's hair appeared to be tied up in its usual short, neat ponytail. Without waiting for him to speak—or perhaps aware that he wouldn't —the woman smiled and went on:

"Did you have a good drive? Did Heisuke get picked on too much? Is Okita-san doing alright?" The last question was asked in a low voice; apparently she didn't want Okita to hear her.

"The drive was fine, Yukimura. Heisuke is in good spirits. Souji did not cough at all during the trip."

"Well I hope he doesn't overdo it now that we're here," growled Hijikata, stalking up to the two of them, his arms full of an odd assortment of objects. The strangest of these was a large pink inflatable duck, which he thrust unceremoniously at Chizuru (as she was invariably called by anyone other than Hijikata or Saitō). "Any trouble, Saitō?"

"No, Commander."

"Then why the hell are you over here instead of frolicking down on the beach with the others? Or at least off finding a convenient place from which to silently watch the others frolic while you drink?" Apparently the question was rhetorical, since he didn't wait for an answer. "Well whatever. You can carry some of this junk. I swear Yukimura filled most of the car with food and the rest with toys."

Saitō nodded calmly, as one used to such situations. He turned to the young woman.

"I thought it might be best for me to carry and, ah, look after the food."

There was a brief, thoughtful silence from the other two, and then Yukimura nodded emphatically and Hijikata smirked.

"Yeah, good point. Don't want Heisuke and Shinpachi making a mess of things as usual and getting sand in everyone's lunch. Fucking morons. They'll think twice if it's you."

"You'll help me carry the beach balls then, Hijikata-san?" Chizuru asked tentatively. "And the posts for the net?"

The Commander sighed irritably. He had a soft spot for the girl, but nobody knew if it went any farther than that. In fact, due to the odd circumstances under which Yukimura Chizuru had (temporarily) joined their unit, everyone kept a close eye on her, and seemed to go a little out of their way for her. To what extent depended on their various natures. Harada Sanosuke, the tall red-head, was the most obviously protective and charming, while Tōdō Heisuke was the kindest and most accepting. Nagakura Shinpachi was more of a rough and ready sort, but he treated her like a younger sister and often looked out for her when he thought nobody was looking. Nobody really knew what Okita Sōji thought, but even he tended to tone down his sharp edges around Chizuru, although he also teased her mercilessly when he could. Saitō just tended to show up when he was needed; however, that was how he behaved with the rest of them as well. Okita insisted that Saitō—a known stickler for order and discipline—went easier on Chizuru than he should, but so far he was alone in his opinion, at least out loud.

"I will find an appropriate spot for the net," Saitō volunteered. "We must also leave sufficient space for the water gun fight." He managed to say the last three words both disapprovingly and without inflection, a skill that many aristocratic butlers trained for years to perfect. Chizuru had never had a butler, but she had heard of them, and it had occurred to her before that Saitō-san would make an excellent butler.

Eventually, everyone was settled—or active, as the case might be. The so-called  _baka_  trio had brought surf boards, and were eyeing the incoming tide. It still wasn't quite right, but according to what they'd been told, it should be getting there fairly soon. In the meantime, they were engaged in a no-holds-barred beach volleyball competition—which pleased Chizuru greatly—refereed by Okita—which apparently pleased nobody but the self-designated ref. Heisuke was at a significant height disadvantage, but he made up for it with exceptional acrobatics and apparently limitless energy. All three were drinking copious quantities of beer. Chizuru tried to get them to drink water between matches instead, but Okita stepped in and (in his words) preserved their inalienable right to get drunk in whatever way they wanted, even if it meant raging dehydration and severe hangovers later. Saitō, from his vantage point not far away, noticed that Sōji's words were more effective than Chizuru's. All three beach volleyball players surreptitiously started to drink more water, and nobody commented further on it.

Hijikata-san sat against a nearby palm tree, head tilted back and eyes closed between sporadic fits of furious writing into a handsomely-bound notebook. Since his facial expressions always became particularly contorted during these times, Chizuru found it best not to bother him, although she was as intensely curious about the contents of the book as usual. Okita-san had told her that Hijikata-san wrote erotica, which was why he refused to read from his writings; Saitō-san had quietly contradicted this and told her that what she had seen was the Commander writing poetry. The latter was more believable, but didn't explain the senior officer's refusal to share his work. It had taken some time for Chizuru to realize that perhaps the two categories weren't mutually exclusive. Moreover, Saitō-san hadn't actually denied that Hijikata-san wrote erotica—in retrospect, his precise wording could have been deliberately misleading.

Okita had just declared himself the winner of the volleyball tournament, to good-natured laughter and cat-calls from the actual participants, when the faint noise of a motor-bike caught everyone's attention. Somehow, Saitō was already in the parking lot, his alcohol of choice—nobody had noticed what it was today—already stowed neatly away and his face showing neither the merriment nor the inebriated flush displayed by his colleagues. Hijikata looked up, his expression registering annoyance (although as Okita often said, how could you tell?).

The motorbike arrived very shortly thereafter, indicating that it was both fast and surprisingly quiet for its speed. Yet another fit young man, this one on the shorter side, sprang off the bike and hurried over to Saitō, who had been joined by Okita. The three surfing enthusiasts down on the beach did not look happy—the waves were just about perfect and the water was calling.

"Dammit, I  _knew_  this was too good to be true," Okita snarled as the biker gave Saitō the unwelcome news that some rich kids—the son of the beachfront owner and his pals—were on their way and might be looking for trouble.

"Chief Kondō said that the owner was happy to oblige him with an inexpensive rental," noted Saitō calmly.

"Yeah, well Kondō-san always thinks the best of everyone, doesn't he? Why didn't Hijikata-san look into things better, that's what I want to know! That's his job, isn't it?"

"Thank you for alerting us, Yamazaki," said Saitō, ignoring Okita's complaint with the ease of long practice. "Now that you are here, however, I feel that you should change into more appropriate apparel so as not to appear out of place."

Before Yamazaki could respond, or Okita could continue to enumerate Hijikata-san's shortcomings for failing to protect Chief Kondō from the consequences of his over-trusting good-nature, Saitō had turned away to brief Hijikata-san. He also made a point of smiling and waving at Harada, Shinpachi and Heisuke, to let them know that it was alright to get on with their surfing. Unfortunately, the unprecedented nature of these actions caused all three of them to abandon their surf boards and come hurrying up from the water.

"What the hell did you signal to them?" demanded Hijikata, taking in Saitō's surprised expression.

"… I'm not sure, now," his faithful aide-de-camp murmured.

In the end, everyone gathered around Hijikata's palm tree to hear the news that they were on the verge of being invaded by high-class guys looking to throw their weight around. Chizuru, holding tightly to a large, bright pink duck, and looking very sweet in a hearts-and-flowers two-piece bathing suit, was clearly the most worried.

"Oh no! I hope they don't ruin your day off! Maybe they just want to welcome you on behalf of the owner?"

Several pairs of eyes met above Chizuru's head and exchanged the unspoken message that the girl was cute, but deluded. Only Okita took it upon himself to explain the situation in no uncertain terms:

"Don't be an idiot. The owner's probably involved in all sorts of corrupt activities—wouldn't be so rich otherwise, would he? Anyone"— _other than Kondō-san_ , thought most of those present, but silently—"would wonder why a guy like that would want to be nice to a bunch of federal investigators like us. He's probably set things up with his son to create trouble with us so that he can make us look bad." Okita rolled his eyes. "It's not likely they're here to be nice to us."

"Let's not give them a chance to complain," Hijikata put in at that point, arms folded. "You three—Heisuke, Harada, Shinpachi—go surf. That's an order! And act normal."

"Sure thing Commander," said Harada. He winked at Shinpachi, who picked up Heisuke, and the two tall men raced back down to the water to dunk their smaller colleague and grab their boards and some more beer.

"Yamazaki—glad to have you with us—why the hell haven't you changed into swim gear or something yet? You look like a ninja in that biking outfit."

"But—" Yamazaki began to protest, before being cut off by Saitō.

"Yukimura brought extra swim gear. You can change in that small cabin."

Chizuru stared at Saitō. "Did I tell you that? I didn't think I told anyone. Hijikata-san was, um…" She trailed off uncomfortably as Hijikata raised a sharp black eyebrow at her.

"I told you not to stuff my car with so much crap, that's all!"

The noise of a motor made them all go silent, and then Saitō started dragging Yamazaki toward the tiny beach hut. Hijikata told Chizuru to go look like she was having fun with the surfers.

"And act natural!" he shouted after her, as she scrambled away across the hot sand, clutching her duck.

Meanwhile, in the beach hut, Saitō was stripping off his black trunks with a resigned expression on his impassive countenance.* Yamazaki, recognizing that he was going to have fun at the beach whether he wanted to or not, peeled off his biking gear. He accepted the black trunks without comment. According to Okita, the unit's two top security experts preferred to operate on a semi-telepathic level when not required to speak to normal people. The two officers in question secretly agreed, but—naturally—never discussed the matter.

Moments later, Saitō and Yamazaki stepped out of the beach hut. Yamazaki looked marginally less like a commando (or ninja) now, in Saitō's black trunks and t-shirt. Saitō looked… Well, he looked  _different_. He had ruffled his neat hair into a tousled mop—always carry good hair gel was one of his many unspoken mottos—and produced a pair of mirrored sunglasses from the black messenger bag that he had apparently been carrying with him all along. There was a bright silver chain with a sword hanging from it around his neck now, flashing in the sun and somehow drawing the eye to his sharp collar-bones and lean, but perfectly muscled chest. And he was wearing bright indigo, crotch-hugging "racing trunks". This was so totally unexpected that the stolid Yamazaki blinked twice before acknowledging that  _if_  a man wanted to wear two bathing suits at once, in anticipation of (a) needing an unexpected disguise at the beach, or (b) some unanticipated event, then Saitō had planned well. Very few people would be staring at his face in that outfit.

As Yamazaki and Saitō strolled casually down toward the water, Hijikata's face froze into an incredulous expression. Then his eyes flicked over to the speedboat that was swooping in on them in a torrent of noise and spray, heading for the small dock about fifty meters away.

"What the  _fuck_  are you wearing, Saitō?!"

Saitō raised a delicate eyebrow under his newly-ruffled bangs and placed a hand on Yamazaki's arm. In a soft voice that in no way reflected the frost in his blue eyes, he murmured:

"I have been studying our new colleague Itō-san, Commander. I believe that his name and overall  _effect_  will be as effective a disguise as any, don't you?"

Hijikata stared at him and then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"How in all the gods' names am I supposed to keep a straight face? Just how much have you been drinking, Saitō?"

"Itō," his subordinate told him implacably. "I haven't gotten through my first fifth yet."

"Fuck. Fine. Well, here they come and I'll bet you diamonds to donuts that the lead guy is daddy's darling."

"No bet," replied Okita, who had been standing beside Hijikata, cell-phone camera at the ready. He was clearly struggling not to laugh, his thin, rather pale face looking more alive than it had in months. Only the possiblity of incoming enemies kept him from immediately starting on a photo-record of "Ito's" day at the beach. Instead, he was saving the battery in order to take nice, innocuous photos showing a nice, innocuous meeting between the unit officers and their host's son.

The boat had pulled in and been moored with amazing efficiency, and three men were walking toward them, two of them wearing the kind of smile that makes you want to count your fingers after you shake hands. The massive red-haired man at the back wasn't smiling at all; if anything, he looked resigned. The front man definitely fit the image conjured up by Hijikata's words: he had feathery, artistically ruffled blond hair (Saitō probably knew the hair gel), porcelain perfect features, expensively tailored clothes, and the kind of walk that is almost unique to those who have been entitled since birth. Everything about him shouted Crown Prince.

"Hello there," called Prince-sama. "Understand Father gave you the run of the place for the day. Mind if we join you for a bit?"

Hijikata bared his teeth in something that was vaguely related to a smile.

"You must be Kazama Junior," he drawled, radiating insincere pleasure. "Let me introduce you to the guys—I'm sure we'll all get along like a city on fire."

* * *

 

 **[END]** [for now]

* * *

 

**Notes:**

*** It's a skill. Don't ask how he does it.**

Please review or comment or whatever if you get the chance! Also, I know this isn't a vignette; more like a vine with half-fermented grapes...

~ImpracticalOni ;)


	6. Small Victories

This story is for [@walk-tall-my-friends](https://tmblr.co/msD_o9wQlzgb6Lf22jXXj2A) for her birthday—Happy Birthday!—and also for [@annahakuouki](https://tmblr.co/mTT-ZuL2qwpZzQC2qkif_cg) for the excellent reason that I’ve been promising her a Harada-Chizuru story for ages. Thank you to both of you for many kindnesses; I hope you enjoy this. \\(^u^)/

This short story is intended to follow canon events from Harada’s route. It is set the day after Sano tells Chizuru in so many words that she is the woman he sees in his dream of settling down peacefully with a wife and family. 

* * *

**Small Victories**

* * *

 

He cared about her. The woman he wanted to share his life with was Yukimura Chizuru, former nobody-in-particular, and current target of a demon lord and two half-crazed medical scientists. Apparently, Harada-san was not deterred by either the danger posed by Chizuru’s pursuers, or by the fact that Chizuru was a demon and not a human girl at all.

It was six-thirty in the morning, and Chizuru was lying staring up at the ceiling instead of scrambling out of bed to start getting her morning chores and breakfast underway. She couldn’t help but blush when she thought of the way that he had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He had been somewhat sheepish that he hadn’t explained things better, sooner, especially since he had known that she was worried about people hating her for being a monster. Chizuru was still mortified that she hadn’t realized until that moment just how much of his decision to leave the Shinsengumi had been based on his concern for her safety. He might have left anyway, of course—Nagakura-san was his best friend, after all—but her well-being had been one of his first considerations. He had said so, and she had no cause to doubt him. He had seen how afraid she was of Sannan-san’s desire to experiment with her blood in order to save the Shinsengumi.  Besides, Harada Sanosuke was incurably honest.

She was the person—the  _woman_ —he wanted to be with. Chizuru kept coming back to that. She found herself dwelling on his bright eyes and handsome face, and on his tall, lean, muscular form. She knew that it was the intangibles that had really won her love (she still whispered that word only to herself, and very shyly), but it was reasonable to be proud of his looks as well as of his courage, his loyalty, and his extraordinary strength of character and skill—wasn’t it? She could feel her heartbeat pick up speed as she remembered being pressed to his chest, his breath tickling her right ear a little as he explained that she was the only one that he saw in his dreams for his future. When she had turned her head, her cheek had lain directly against his skin; the recollection caused a warm flutter in her stomach.

None of which was getting breakfast made. Fortunately, Nagakura-san would almost certainly get up later than usual, as he had returned much later than his friend and had most likely been drunk. At the same time, Chizuru was a little nervous about seeing Harada-san again without the buffer of Nagakura-san’s loud and cheerful presence. What if he were already regretting the words of affection and reassurance of the night before? With an effort, Chizuru finally got up, put on her boy’s clothing, and went quietly down to the kitchen.

An hour passed, and Chizuru was just tidying away her meal preparations when she sensed a familiar presence behind her. She hesitated, desperately trying to force back a rising blush, but her inward focus just meant that she jumped slightly when a large hand came down on each shoulder. The man behind her chuckled softly.

“I knew you’d be over-thinking everything,” murmured Harada, holding her in place long enough to drop a light kiss onto the top of her head. Chizuru felt her face flame up, although a friendly kiss was hardly an unexpected gesture, under the circumstances—was it? Competent hands turned her around with care for the dish she still held and a warmth that she knew was all for her. “The idea is simple, even though life isn’t: you’re the woman I want in my life, and you seem to be okay with that.” He hushed her protest at the description. “Nothing— _nothing_ —changes that basic concept. We just have a few things we need to get done before we can make our future together really happen.”

Chizuru gestured rather timidly at the food. “Would you like to eat now? I wasn’t sure when you’d be up.”

Amber eyes glinted down into her face from almost a full foot above her. “Is that your polite way of saying that you’ve changed your mind about things?”

“What?! No!”

“Then don’t change the subject. Somehow we’re going to overcome a few minor obstacles, settle down, and raise a family. Together. Right?”

“Y-yes, Harada-san.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” Chizuru whispered, her voice choked with a jumble of emotions.  When Harada-san was direct, he didn’t mess around.  At all.

“Good. Are we clear now?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s eat, I have a suggestion for you.”

* * *

That afternoon, Chizuru found herself trying on a very pretty, second-hand kimono. Harada-san had assured her that he would have suggested new, except that she was certain to protest and he didn’t want to look bad when he lost their first official argument “as a couple”. Chizuru had been shocked by the entire discussion, but it was difficult to know how to object. In fact, for some reason she had ended up laughing.

The shop-keeper was standing a few feet away, obviously perfectly ready to accept Harada-san’s comment that the young lady had worn boy’s clothing during her trip from Kyoto due to the unrest, but now needed women’s clothing to replace some of what she’d left behind. The truth was that Chizuru finally had access to her own women’s clothing again, now that they were in Edo, but Harada-san had made a bet with her that it wouldn’t fit properly, and he’d been right. It wasn’t bad, and she could and would make the clothes over to fit better as soon as she had the time—but she was apparently a little more curved through the bosom and hips now. She was also slightly taller and more muscular, but that was less… problematic.

Harada-san spoke amiably with the merchant while Chizuru tried to decide which of two kimonos she liked better. She was pleased to see that although the merchant had been very wary when he had first taken in the size and style of his customer—the tall red-head could never be taken for anything but a warrior—he had thawed quickly thanks to Harada-san’s pleasant manner. In the end, they bought both kimonos that Chizuru had liked, and when she tried to protest, Harada-san had quirked a smile at her to remind her of their earlier conversation and how he didn’t want to lose face in their very first disagreement “as a couple”. By the time they left the shop, Chizuru was fighting not to blush again, but her companion was in good spirits.

“This evening, I will take you out for dinner—dressed as a woman—and that way people won’t look strangely at me when I decide to hold your hand when we go for a walk by the water afterwards.”

“Um… are you sure it’s okay, Harada-san?”

“Yes.”

“What about Nagakura-san? Shouldn’t I at least get his dinner ready before we go? And won’t he be a bit… surprised?”

Since they were still out in public, Harada-san contented himself by gently yanking her pony-tail in response. It reminded her of earlier times with Heisuke, although the yank wouldn’t have been gentle at all in that case.

“Shinpachi can make his own dinner for once, assuming he isn’t going out again with his buddies. He’ll be annoyed with me for not going with him, but then he’ll forget all about it. He’s brighter than he looks, but he doesn’t always notice things real well. As for how you’re dressed, we’ll either leave early or late, depending, so he won’t see you. Tonight is a celebration for us and I don’t want to share.”

“Harada-san?”

He looked down at her and sighed. “You’re way too cute, when you get that confused, helpless look. Not that you’re as helpless as you look, mind you—you’ve managed to scold all of us at some time or other, even Hijikata-san!”

Chizuru had given up trying to talk with him at that point, since it was embarrassing to have him calling her cute out in public like that. Or at all, really. Or so she told herself.

Harada-san raised the matter himself once they’d returned to the house they were borrowing from Nagakura-san’s friend. He’d set down Chizuru’s packages on a low table and taken her hands. As new and strange and disconcerting as it was, Chizuru deeply appreciated his willingness to be openly affectionate with her, given that most men were very reserved about their emotions, even with their closest friends. Harada-san had once explained that it was one reason why men drank: it allowed them to open up and share more easily.

“I’ll explain it again, Chizuru,” Harada said calmly, his hands engulfing hers. “It isn’t easy for anybody to admit their feelings out loud to another person. Since we finally managed it, we should celebrate. I mean, what if we hadn’t sorted it out? That would be—to quote our friend Saitō—most unsatisfactory, am I right?” When Chizuru was unable to stifle a smile at hearing one of Saitō-san’s typically unemotional phrases, Harada continued. “These days especially, it’s just as important to celebrate the small victories as the big ones, right? So tonight you are going to wear’s women’s clothing, and you and I are going to go out for dinner as a couple, so that I can show you a small part of the future I want for us.”

“And then you will hold my hand and we will walk by the water,” murmured Chizuru, a little misty-eyed.

“Oh, and by the way"—Harada dgave Chizuru a stern look—"if you keep going on about Shinpachi then I’m going to get jealous.”

“Harada-san!”

“You see? Even you find the idea too terrible to contemplate.”

“Or unlikely,” giggled Chizuru. “I mean—”

“Yes, you mean that you don’t really think I could get jealous over you, since you’re such an insignificant little thing, right? Or because you’re a demon or one of your other reasons—you seem to have several, and none of them make sense.”

“But I—”

“In all seriousness, I might be a bit of a jealous husband. I guess I’ll just have to make sure that you’re so happy with me you don’t even notice other guys.”

“Harada-san!” Chizuru exclaimed.

“Chizuru-chan!” Harada echoed, grinning.

“Nagakura-san can make his own dinner tonight,” Chizuru said softly, eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

Harada-san released her hands and pulled her into a hug, his arms around her shoulders and cradling her head. A minute later, he tilted her face up and pressed a kiss onto her lips.

“I’m not going to let you go, Chizuru,” he told her, with a rather crooked smile for her wide-eyed, startled expression.

Chizuru nodded and then leaned closer into his chest, allowing herself to fully enjoy the moment. Today they would celebrate their not-so-small victory. And maybe, at some point, he would kiss her again?

* * *

**[END]**

* * *

A/Note:  All notes and reviews for any of these chapters are very much appreciated, however short!  Thank you for reading.  ~ImpracticalOni \\(^u^)/


	7. The Gift of Teasing Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for OkiChi Week 2017. A little sad, a little funny and definitely a little sexy. Set about 8 months-a year after the end of Hakuouki's Okita Souji route.

******RATING: Mild M for sexual situations**

**Author's Note:**

I had hoped to contribute at least one story to OkiChi Week 2017. Unfortunately, I was only able to put together this modest (or rather immodest) little piece - but I hope that you enjoy it! :)

~ _ImpracticalOni_

* * *

**Losing One's Regrets to the Gift of Teasing Laughter**  
Prompts: Lost, Regrets, Gift, Laughter, Teasing

* * *

They had rebuilt Chizuru's parents' house, bit by bit, over the course of that first, difficult year. It was a good thing that Kōdō and Kaoru had already repaired the main structure, and made three rooms fully habitable, since otherwise the extensive fire damage would likely have been beyond Sōji's fluctuating strength and Chizuru's lack of expertise to handle. By the time that the first snows had come—both earlier and harder than in Kyoto or Edo—not only had Chizuru expanded the inhabitable space to four, comfortable rooms, but they had managed to obtain sufficient supplies to get them through the winter with a minimum of reliance on rural neighbours or the small village a few miles away.

"We'll need to get a better vegetable garden started as early as possible in the Spring," Chizuru murmured, as they stood together on their small porch watching the flakes come down from the grey, late November sky. "And I hope the hens make it through the winter."

"You worry too much," said her husband, just as she'd expected. He looked even thinner than in the past, but his face was tanned from a summer spent in the sun, and the pale hollows around his eyes had disappeared thanks to rest, lack of stress, and the oddly peaceful, almost healing atmosphere of the Yukimura land. Chizuru always ignored his explanation that he simply didn't dare look less than healthy around her due to her overbearing ways as a doctor's daughter.

"We should go in," Chizuru said—and then smiled, because Sōji's huff of laughter told her that she was at least as predictable as he was.

"In a moment."

"You always say that, and it's never a moment."

Sōji responded by pulling her tightly against him and kissing the top of her head. "Then you'd better keep me warm while I risk life and limb proudly surveying my domain."

Chizuru's reply was muffled against Sōji's chest. They were both rather stubborn, she reflected, but they made that work for them. Then she smiled. Their friends would not call Sōji "rather" stubborn… She shivered suddenly, with the unhappy recollection that the stories out of Aizu had all been bad, which did not bode well for Saitō-san or Nagakura-san, although she clung to her  _stubborn_  belief that they were alive. They had heard nothing at all of Heisuke-kun, but Harada-san had almost certainly died in an especially bloody battle that had left no survivors on the loyalist side. She mourned Kondō-san and now Hijikata-san; even Sōji had wept over the recent, conclusive news from Ezo, although not until he could reasonably pretend to believe that she was asleep.

As if he had followed her thoughts, Sōji tipped up her chin and smiled down at her. He had obviously intended to reassure her—or more likely tease her into happier reflections—but his expression was shadowed with imperfectly concealed regret, and he was unusually at a loss for words. On the whole, Sōji dealt with regret better than most, in Chizuru's opinion. However, she guessed that his current regret was too new to have been fully processed and laid aside.

Not that they ever talked about the way in which he'd left Hijikata-san before they'd come here to face her brother and foster father; some wounds were still too deep for words. But it had been a bitter parting for two men who had worked together for so many long, hard years, and death now precluded any resolution but acceptance. Chizuru pulled herself together. She was immensely grateful to have Sōji with her now, alive and apparently improving every day, even though there was little they could do about his fury-depleted lifespan. They had committed to living for each other, and that was more than enough.

"I was thinking that I could keep you even warmer inside," she told him, overcoming embarrassment for the sake of seeing his green eyes light up with interest and a certain mischievous amusement at the blush that she could feel spreading over her cheeks.

"Oh? What do you have in mind? It's a little stuffy inside to be honest, now that we've gotten most of the cracks sealed up. I think I prefer it out here."

Chizuru felt the blush creep up her neck. She didn't have her husband's facility for being straightforward about their more intimate moments. On the other hand, she had now managed to distract not only Sōji but herself from less happy notions. Sōji's lips brushed hers, and then he started to nibble on her earlobe, while his hands managed to both pull her even closer and caress her waist and hips.

"Oh, um, don't you think our r-room would be m-more comfortable, Sōji?" she managed, still trying—on some level—to make him come in from the chilly porch.

"More comfortable for what, Chizuru-chan? I'm not quite sure what you mean." These words were accompanied by a distinctly impish chuckle, and Chizuru suddenly felt the door behind her—he'd obviously managed to turn her slightly and back her up a step. He leaned against her and grinned, before bending down to kiss her neck. When the kiss turned into more of a bite, and he deliberately pressed his body even closer to hers, she gasped slightly.

"S-Sōji? What are you doing?"

He raised his mouth from her neck and gazed at her, the picture of utterly feigned innocence. "Waiting for you to explain why we'd be more comfortable inside. I mean, I'm even trying to make sure that you can still speak, even though I think there's better things you could be doing with your mouth right now."

Chizuru was startled enough to gape at him—and then squirm slightly when he put his lips against her ear and murmured, "I just meant I wanted a kiss… but that was a cute little choking sound you made just now. Did you have something else in mind?"

Annoyed at how easily he was making her react to his very improper—but  _interesting_ , said her traitorous mind—insinuations, Chizuru forced herself to stand perfectly still and say nothing. This seemed to have the desired effect, as Sōji leaned back enough to look at her and say penitently:

"You're right, Chizuru. I'd much rather be inside." He loosened his tight hold on Chizuru and held out his hands. In one hand was the cord she had tied over her  _obi_ … and in the other hand was the belt itself. A tendril of cold filtered into the now open front of Chizuru's kimono and she gasped.

"Sōji!"

"I know… pretty amazing, right?"

"I—we—we need to go in!"

Her husband was definitely laughing now, all trace of shadow gone from his face and bright green eyes. Chizuru tried to pull her kimono closed, but it was not to be—a strong, long-fingered hand closed around both of her hands and held them tight. She was neither surprised by, nor all that sorry about this interference, although she was a little shocked at being undressed, without her knowledge, and  _in public_! Not that there was anybody around for at least two miles, but still.

Sōji used his free hand to unfasten the ties of her white under-kimono, and then slid his fingers caressingly over one small breast. She inhaled sharply, and then gave up trying to plead for her modesty as her skin warmed under his touch.

"I thought you said you'd rather be inside," she said softly, feeling her body start to simultaneously relax and tense at the same time. Since she still didn't have the use of her hands, she stretched up to claim a kiss.

The kiss was returned with interest, and they managed to stand like that for quite some time, drowning out the sorrows of the past and the uncertainty of the future by savouring the present. Naturally, Sōji insisted on having the last word. As soon as their lips parted, and Chizuru glanced at the door that lead into their bright, cozy home, he put his arms around his wife and smirked down at her—not for the first time and definitely not for the last.

"Oh, but you see… I didn't mean I'd rather be inside the  _house_."

**[END]**


	8. Cuddling a Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short piece based on a request for the prompt "familiar cuddling" and Harada x Senhime (from Teachings of Demons). Some banter, some fluff, and a little smidge of steam.

**Cuddling a Princess****  
_by Impracticaldemon for[@hakuyamazakisensei](https://tmblr.co/mmpnBTsDZfgWdg7fOl_jYig)   
_

_** Reference to a passage from The Teachings of Demons, Chapter 23_

 

* * *

The day had been warm and sunny when Harada and Sen had entered the tea-shop.  Only a slight heaviness in the air and a grey haze in the distance had hinted at the rain to come, and Harada had elected to ignore the hint.

He and Sen had been  _seeing each other_  (whatever that meant) for some time now, and Harada had started to look forward to each meeting with greater and greater anticipation.  It wasn’t easy to be both a pragmatist and a romantic, especially when the woman who haunted your dreams and spoiled your concentration was a beautiful Oni princess who made no secret of her affection.  And that despite the ambivalence of her closest companion and long-time bodyguard, Lady Kimigiku.  Of course, ambivalence was an improvement over veiled hostility, so there was that…

“We haven’t been here recently,” Sen remarked cheerfully, taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables.  “Just as well, since I think you frightened the proprietress last time.” Her large, deep magenta eyes sparkled with mischief, and Harada had to suppress the urge to kiss the enchanting dimple that had appeared in one cheek.

“I don’t think I frightened her at all.  The good woman merely disapproved of a well-born - and unchaperoned - girl like you flirting outrageously with a hardened ronin like myself.  She wasn’t afraid of me, she was glaring at me!”

“That could have been it, I suppose,” laughed Sen. She leaned forward conspiratorially, and lowered her voice. “All I can say is that she at least appreciated where I was coming from, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I  _don’t_  know what you mean,” lied Harada in reproving tones.  “And neither should you!”  Sen snickered.

“All I know,” she told him loftily, “is that while  _you_  were busy telling me how sweet and dignified I was”–her expression dared him to contradict her–”the proprietress was busy admiring your more  _obvious_  - or should I say  _exposed_  - attractions.”

Harada shook his head dolefully at her forthright speech, his lashes lowered to hide his amusement.  “Kimigiku-san would not approve of such brazen comments, Princess,” he told her, affecting dismay.

Sen appeared to give his admonition serious consideration, but eventually shook her head.  “I’m not sure, Harada-san,” she told him, sipping demurely at her tea.  “She is always torn between disapproval and wanting to show me how to flirt  _properly_.  Whenever she forgets herself - which isn’t often, unfortunately - she gives me quite helpful advice.”

Harada wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear Kimigiku-san’s advice.  He suspected it would bruise his ego.

“You should be eating your dango, Sen-hime. You didn’t eat quickly enough last time, and then practically stuffed the last dumpling into your mouth to prevent me from getting it first.”

If he’d hoped to distract her, or at least throw her off-balance, he failed.

“I will eat my dango when I wish to, Harada-san,” she retorted with supreme disdain.  “The point is that according to Kimigiku, men like to flaunt what they’re proud of, because they want you to notice and praise them.”  Her dancing eyes trailed pointedly over the planes of Harada’s well-defined - and very visible - chest.

Harada took another sip of tea and a large bite of dango, and then raised his expressive eyebrows at her inquiringly.  Sen-hime might be wise for her age, and very powerful, but sixteen was still sixteen.  She started to blush.  The problem was that this only made her more adorable, and Harada found himself reaching across the table to caress her cheek, despite his plan to stay cool and collected.

The mood changed abruptly, from teasing good-humour to something more charged.  Harada withdrew his hand with an effort, and drained his cup.

“Ready to go,  _hime-chan_?”

“Yes - almost - yes.”   

* * *

They shared the last stick of dango on the way back to Sen’s Kyoto property - the one she had bought in defiance of her uncle’s wishes.  The rain started to fall just as they reached the house’s  _engawa,_  and they hurried up the shallow steps together, Sen’s pretty sandals barely touching the wood as Harada swept her upward in the crook of his left arm.

When they reached the top, they turned to watch the rain, Harada’s arm still curled protectively around Sen’s upper back.  Eventually, without words, the tall spear-man settled himself cross-legged against one of the posts, and drew his petite companion into his lap.  She twisted herself sideways a little, so that she could rest her cheek against his broad chest.  

For some reason, this had become their favourite way to touch and connect, at least within the boundaries that they had chosen for the time being.  Those boundaries could be somewhat… flexible… however.

Harada pulled Sen closer, savouring her soft curves and the way that she fit perfectly into his arms.  He could feel her smooth cheek against his bare skin, and the warmth of her breath. This was what he thought of now when he thought of Sen - this comfortable, comforting, familiar position.  Of course, it was perfectly normal that his  _thoughts_  sometimes - more and more often lately - went rather farther than their established boundaries.

“We don’t get to do this enough,” murmured Sen, snuggling as close as she could manage and closing her eyes.  The rain was increasing steadily, it’s noise becoming deeper and more intense as it changed from a fall to a downpour.

Sen-hime had fallen asleep like this at least once before, Harada recalled - and it had been raining then as well, although they had been indoors then and the sound had been muted.  Then he blinked, barely restraining himself from tensing.  One of Sen’s hands was stroking his chest, and although her touch was sure and gentle, he could feel his nerve endings jangling - though not in a bad way.  He leaned forward a little to kiss her hair, but that really wasn’t enough, so he bent further forward still, so that he could kiss the place just under her ear..

“Mmm.”  Sen tilted her head so that he could reach her more easily, and for a little while the only thing he could hear was his own breathing - and possibly hers - as he tasted, kissed, and ran his tongue across the curving, slender neck.

Eventually - perhaps only a minute or two later - Harada sat up straight and inhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus.  He used one large hand to smooth Sen’s hair back into place and then trap Sen’s fingers against him.

“ _Hime-chan_ … I’m not sure that you really know what you’re doing.  It’s wonderful, but I don’t think this is the right time or place.”

“I… I understand, Harada-san.”  Sen sounded rather forlorn.  Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who was finding it difficult to concentrate these days.  

That thought aroused him further, and conjured up images of passionate kisses and discarded clothing.  Only effort and experience allowed him not to act on his arousal.  One day though…

“One day, Princess,” he told the girl in his arms.

“Soon… maybe?” she replied hesitantly. 

Harada hugged her, and settled them both into place to watch the rain.  She really was adorable.  He just hoped he could handle things right when it  _was_  the right time.

**[END]**

* * *

**Fluffy and just a little steamy! Hope you enjoyed it.** Can’t wait for some of this to show up in ToD, because I think that these two will be scorching hot!  
All reviews, comments and kudos are appreciated!

~ Imp ([@impracticaldemon](https://impracticaldemon.tumblr.com/) on tumblr)

 


	9. Welcoming the New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was published before Cuddling a Princess and somehow didn't make it onto AO3 due to technical difficulties (mine or the site's I don't remember). However, it's easier just to add it to the end, here, and besides - it's mid-February 2018, which is actually much closer to the actual Japanese New Year. Happy Year of the (Earth) Dog!

 

**New Year's Day (Japanese New Year, 1866)  
Day 1 of VerasPromptChallenge for January**

* * *

Harada sat on the edge of the  _engawa_ , his long legs stretched out in front of him and his back to a pillar. Heisuke and Shinpachi were allegedly having a snowball fight, but there wasn't all that much snow and the whole thing had devolved into Shinpachi chasing Heisuke around in circles, looking for all the world like a large dog bounding along after a particularly colourful puppy.

"First match of the new year?" Sōji inquired laconically of the indigo-haired man who sat drinking tea not far from Harada.

" _Īe._  Not today. Today is for reflection and for reaffirming one's purpose, so that the rest of the year can be approached with a clear mind and a settled spirit."

Sōji laughed, and even Saitō had to smile a little: Shinpachi had finally caught the nimble Heisuke and was performing the age old ritual of washing the smaller man's face with snow. Heisuke's howls and Shinpachi's gloating ended abruptly when Heisuke suddenly slipped from his tormentor's grasp, and shoved a handful of half-melted snow down Shinpachi's pants

None of the watchers evinced surprise when Vice Commander Hijikata came storming out onto the porch, scowling and cursing.

"Happy New Year's, Hijikata-san," Harada said politely. "Chizuru-chan will be bringing out freshly heated  _sake_  and tea, so you can choose your poison if you care to join us."

"We would be pleased to have your company, Vice Commander," Saitō added calmly, as though Shinpachi weren't bellowing like a man on the verge of murder just ten feet away.

"Or feel free to go back to your work and skip trying to get any fun out of the day," Sōji suggested, green eyes gleaming. "The world might end if you took a break you know."

"Morons," Hijikata muttered, eyes still fixed on his Second and Eighth Division Captains, who were now wrestling in the muddy slush. "But what the hell, since I'm forced to listen to them, I might as well get some fun out of it. Heisuke's hanging in there not too badly, all things considered."

Before Sōji could comment on the likelihood of Hijikata obtaining fun from anything other than work and abusing his subordinates, a soft gasp interrupted the conversation. The eyes of all four men on the porch swivelled to the newest arrival, a petite young woman clutching a large tray of steaming drinks. Her own eyes were fixed on Shinpachi and Heisuke, which proved to be a mistake—her feet went out from under her as a result of her abrupt stop. Hijikata and Sōji watched appreciatively as Harada gallantly saved Chizuru from sliding off the porch, while Saitō deftly rescued the drinks.

"Oh—thank you Harada-san!" Chizuru smiled up at Harada, who grinned down at her. "And thank you, Saitō-san! I can serve the drinks now, if you like?"

"I will do it," Saitō responded, carrying the tray over to Hijikata and Sōji.

"But why were Nagakura-san and Heisuke-kun fighting?" inquired Chizuru, still looking a little worried. She watched doubtfully as Shinpachi helped Heisuke up off the slushy ground.

"They were reflecting on and reaffirming their purpose," Sōji told her in solemn tones, "so as to be able to approach the rest of the year with a clear mind and a settled spirit."

Chizuru shook her head at him, her eyes twinkling slightly. "I believe you must be mistaken, Okita-san. Those are  _Saitō_ -san's objectives for the day." She turned her shy smile on Saitō, who unaccountably smiled in return, before quickly turning away and taking a long sip of warmed  _sake_.

"They're just being idiots," said Hijikata, impatiently.

"Not at all, Hijikata-san!" called Shinpachi, striding over to grab a cup of  _sake_  and a place beside the brazier. "We were just channelling all this new year energy into training! Right, Heisuke?"

Heisuke looked undecided on the point until Chizuru handed him a hot drink and patted his shoulder. "Are you okay, Heisuke-kun?" she asked gently.

"Oh—oh sure, Chizuru, I'm just fine! Would take more than that lumbering  _oji-san_  to damage me!"

"I'm not that old!" protested Nagakura, suddenly looking annoyed.

"Well, we're all a year older as of today, even Chizuru-chan," commented Sōji.

"Then let's have a drink to everyone's health," proposed Harada, lifting his cup. "To your health, Chizuru-chan and gentlemen."

Everyone followed suit, including Hijikata and Sōji, rather to Chizuru's surprise. She cautiously raised her own cup (of tea, not  _sake_ ). "I wish you all the best in the new year. Thank you for looking after me."

There was a quiet pause, as everyone sipped at their drinks. There was trouble on the horizon, but it was a good day to make the most of the current peace.

* * *

**A/Note:**  Working on some drabbles and ficlets that have been floating around in my brain. 1866 was the best year for the Shinsengumi in many respects, although not perfect. The bulk of their troubles were internal, with Itou Kashitarou's group becoming more and more disruptive to the Shinsengumi as a cohesive organization, especially toward the end of the year. That said, I like to imagine 1866 as the year that friendships matured, Chizuru's relationships with the various captains (and Hijikata) solidified, and the Shinsengumi were able to operate more as the police force that they were intended to be (having become better known in 1864 and 1865). One can always dream!  _~ Imp_


	10. The Observer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a kind of "trailer" for SaiChiFest 2018 on tumblr (May 4 to 7).  
> Saito is worried about possible trouble at the Sanjo Bridge - especially since today is Yukimura's first day out on patrol with Souji.

* * *

Saitō stood under the shade of a sakura blossom tree, eyes fixed on the bridge just a short distance away.  He had heard rumours that there would be an attempt to block traffic this afternoon, and concern for this afternoon’s Shinsengumi patrol had drawn him here from his regular off-duty activities. 

He knew that his solicitude was connected in large part to this being the first time that Yukimura was joining Sōji’s division on active duty.  After all, he had been responsible for telling Hijikata-san that she was competent enough to join the various captains on their rounds.  He still wondered if Sōji had somehow influenced his decision:  in sober truth, Yukimura’s skill was limited, and hampered by both temperament and lack of physical strength.  

A growing knot of armed men toward the center of the bridge suggested that this morning’s rumours were correct.  Moreover, the timing of the gathering was suspicious, since the Shinsengumi were due to arrive at any minute.  Saitō had no qualms about Sōji’s ability to deal swiftly with just about any kind of trouble-makers; however, the Vice Commander had made it clear that Yukimura was to be guarded, and her reaction to sudden confrontation was unknown.  She seemed sensible enough, but Saitō had noticed an unfortunate tendency toward unpredictable emotional responses.

The patrol was approaching now, light blue haori fluttering a little in the warm breeze.  Saitō blinked as he took in Yukimura’s bouncing step and obvious interest in her surroundings, and he was a little surprised that Sōji had obviously tolerated the behaviour thus far.  Perhaps it was the way that she seemed to be drinking in the world around her—her quick changes of expression were oddly intriguing.  As the squad drew level with his position, Sōji registered Saitō’s presence, frowned slightly, and then scanned the immediate area more closely.

Just then, Chizuru said something to Sōji that made the man give a short laugh and stop to look down at her.  His squad continued on without him, although Saitō was relieved to see that his colleague’s sharp green eyes were now assessing the potential trouble-makers up ahead.  Unfortunately, not even Sōji’s quick reflexes could prevent what happened next.

The dissidents had become more actively insulting as the Shinsengumi had approached, and somebody’s temper obviously frayed and snapped.  Steel flashed in the sun, and abruptly the sullen, but generally passive onlookers became a loud, panicking mob.  Saitō was close enough to hear Sōji shout at Yukimura to stay put, but even as the other captain started toward his men—his expression promising swift punishment for everyone concerned—Yukimura was shoved inexorably away from the Shinsengumi.

Saitō moved swiftly toward the bridge, arriving only a moment behind Sōji.  There was no time—or need—for words.  With one last, murderous glare at both his squad and the would-be blockaders, Sōji turned and dashed off to either apprehend or rescue Yukimura.  Saitō had a strong premonition that it was going to be the latter. Hopefully, Sōji’s height would mean that he could find her, or was already tracking her.  Without regret for his own (comparative) lack of inches, Saitō stepped between Sōji’s Vice-Captain and the jeering knot of samurai and ronin.

“Magoshi, leave me a man and then follow Okita.”

Magoshi correctly understood that Saitō wanted muscle for bringing in anyone who decided to push matters, chose a suitable recruit, and then led the rest of the squad away at speed.

“You a member of the Shinsengumi as well?  Your pal _Captain_ Okita was a lot more scary.”

“I am Captain Saitō Hajime of the Third Division of the Shinsengumi.  You will either put down your longswords and disperse immediately, or I will take you into custody.”  Before his opponents could even register surprise, Saitō’s sword swept from its sheath, and the man who had been speaking found himself disarmed and nursing a bleeding hand.

A short melee ensued, resulting in a few more minor injuries like the first one.  Fortunately, nobody seemed anxious to be a hero, despite having a clear numerical advantage.  Saitō made a note to commend his current ‘assistant’ to Sōji.  The man had guarded Saitō’s flank without getting in the way, and had looked after any dropped or discarded weapons without needing to be told.

“You will stay away from this bridge in the future,” Saitō told the now-cowed—though clearly resentful—group.  “In a week you may come to the Shinsengumi compounds to pay a fine and reclaim your weapons.”  He turned to the leader.  “You will come with me now.”

“Like hell I will! The Shinsengumi _murder_ their prisoners!”  The man was obviously beyond reason.  He ignored his bleeding hand, and attacked Saitō with his _wakizashi_.

Saitō side-stepped easily, reversed his blade, and broke the man’s arm.  It was straightforward after that, but Saitō was becoming uneasy about the fact that Sōji had not returned.  To be more specific, he was concerned about Yukimura’s safety to a degree that surprised him. 

She wasn’t quite a guest, nor entirely a captive, and it wasn’t clear whether she could actually be of use to the Shinsengumi.  Regardless of her situation, Saitō felt that there was something admirable about her determination to seek out her father despite the odds.  No doubt his appreciation of her courage and honesty was what caused him to want to keep an eye on her—that and his orders, of course.


	11. The Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy with a tiny tiny hint of angst and a not-so-tiny hint at 'mature themes'. (Really, that sums it up.)

**Author’s Note:**

Written as a birthday ficlet for  **eheartangel ~** I hope you enjoy it!

To  **eliz1369**  and  **kurokiorya**  ~ I consider this a 'moment in time' from the same canon-esque setting as  **The Gift of Teasing Laughter**.

To my various OkiChi shipping friends, followers, and readers (not exclusive categories, obviously!), the way this short story just seemed to work for me is a testimony to the effect of your diligent and (sometimes -  _ow!_  - sorry) reasonable arguments in favour of your ship. \\(^u^)/

~  _ImpracticalOni_

* * *

**The Bargain**

It was an unusually lazy afternoon, but Chizuru was eventually forced to concede that she’d needed it.  It wasn’t just that their life entailed a significant amount of physical labour, but that living in the shadow of death—Sōji’s death, specifically—was mentally and emotionally exhausting for her.  Fortunately, Sōji was much more practical about these things than she was, and when he decided that they—that _she_ —needed a break, they took one.

He was noticeably stronger now, she reminded herself, as she watched the clouds drift in endlessly changing forms across the blue sky of late summer.  That thought made her turn her head to look at him—again—taking in the healthy colour on cheeks that had once been hollow and pale.  He lay on the warm grass beside her, loose-limbed and a little untidy, but as breathtakingly beautiful as always.  Aloud, she called him _handsome_.  She knew all too well how he scoffed at both the idea of male beauty and those who too obviously embodied it, although she’d long suspected that he perceived it just as easily as she did.  Or perhaps that had been the problem?  He had loved to mock both Itō-san and Hijikata-san for being vain, but he’d never once said that it was _unwarranted_. 

This last reflection took her thoughts in a different direction.  For many reasons, Souji no longer spoke of Hijikata-san much at all, and never with the unveiled contempt of the old days.  Especially not since they’d heard that a sizeable portion of the Imperial Army had landed in Ezo over two months ago.  They hadn’t spoken with anyone since—their interactions with neighbours were infrequent—but it seemed likely that—

“Sober thoughts, Chizuru-chan?  You promised to smile…”

Chizuru started, and then found herself under attack by relentless fingers that knew exactly where she was most ticklish.  Bright green eyes glinted down at her, and even as she struggled not to giggle, she knew the game was lost.  “Sōji…”

Once she was completely breathless with laughter—which never took long—Sōji rolled back onto the grass and pulled her on top of him.  It always entertained him to re-enact what he still referred to as the first time she’d tried to seduce him.  She’d given up pointing out that Yamazaki-san had accidentally _thrown_ her into him.

“I figure the least you can do is provide a proper blanket for me, since you didn’t keep up your part of our bargain.”  He grinned wolfishly, and she blushed, though not nearly as much as she would have before.

“What bargain?” she demanded, rallying, trying to ignore the arousal that his touch so frequently awoke in her.  “I was about to do laundry, and the next thing I knew you had picked me up and dropped me out here on the grass.”  She poked the tip of his nose—something that he often did to her, and that she’d been working up the courage to try.

“Oi!”  He batted her small hand away, laughing.  The open happiness on his face made her melt in ways that she couldn’t describe, and she felt heat that had nothing to do with the sun course through her.

“Well then, what was your part of the bargain, Sōji?”

Without warning, his hand was in the hair at the nape of her neck, and her mouth was being pressed to his.  His teeth bit lightly into her lower lip, and then his tongue was exploring her mouth.  She couldn’t quite suppress a cry of something that wasn’t pain, and their lips briefly parted as Sōji smirked up at her, loving the way that she was so wholly, transparently _his_.  She didn’t mind; she understood better now why it mattered so much to him—and also that any ownership went both ways.

“Our bargain’s never changed, Chizuru:  you smile for me”— _and only me_ —“and I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

It was an unusually  wonderful afternoon.

**[END]**


End file.
